Life is a Lemon

By Helen Matthews

The writers of management platitudes say that when life gives you lemons, you should make lemonade. In Sorrento, they appear to have taken this advice to heart in a big way.

There are a lot of lemons in Sorrento. The town is surrounded by lemon groves, their trees carefully protected with netting against giant hailstones.

But they don't only make lemonade. They make all sorts of lemon-flavoured products: limoncello, a liqueur which can be described as a cross between lemsip and paintstripper; lemon ice-cream; lemon sorbet; lemon granita; lemon sweets; lemon biscuits; lemon chocolate; lemon sauce; lemon risotto; lemon profiteroles. You name it, they do a lemon version of it.

If the edible versions were not enough, they also do lemon soap and numerous tourist souvenirs of varying degrees of merit featuring lemons, ranging from ceramics and table linen to fridge magnets. It would be quite easy, if pointless, to have an entirely lemon-flavoured meal, served on tableware decorated with lemons.

I am not that keen on lemons as such, but I tried several of the lemon-flavoured edibles in the interests of research. Lemon risotto is quite pleasant, if a little too like rice pudding for a starter. Pasta with lemon sauce is more interesting, particularly when made with unusual star-shaped pasta. 'Lemon delicious' is a sponge-based dessert with lemon cream, which is surprisingly pleasant, and nothing at all like the synthetic lemon-flavoured desserts I remember from school dinners. A chocolate version of this dessert looks more delicious still. Lemon granite (a refreshing crushed ice concoction) is widely available from Sorrento's gelaterias and from street stalls in Naples, and very welcome in the heat, but overall the quality of granitas in the area does not match that of Sicily, where they are a little more sorbet-like.

Sorrento's gelaterias serve ice cream and sorbets in many other flavours as well as lemon, from the anagrammatic melon to apple, and from amaretto to tiramisu. The oddest flavour I saw was Ferrero Rocher - presumably the Ambassador comes to Sorrento for his holidays. The Bougainvillea has a menu for ice-cream sundaes as thick as a telephone directory.

The bigger gelaterias also serve a waistline-threatening range of cakes. Interesting patisserie is also available in cafes and bakeries. I sampled a delicious pastry with cream and raspberries, from a small bakery in Naples, which cost only 50 cents.

Pizza was of course invented in the Naples area, and it is impossible to beat a genuine Italian pizza made in a proper pizza oven. Whilst purists might argue that real pizza should be topped with nothing more than tomatoes, mozzarella and a sprinkling of herbs, pizzerias offer versions topped with other items including ham, sausage, mushrooms and artichokes. Those looking for a Hawaiian pizza with pineapple will be disappointed.

Pasta is also good. Seafood versions such as spaghetti alla vongole are delicious. For the more adventurous, I can recommend ravioli with almonds and cherry tomato sauce. This is in effect marzipan ravioli in tomato sauce, garnished with a langoustine. It may sound revolting, but actually tastes surprisingly good. The Sicilian speciality of pasta with tomato and aubergine sauce is also widely available, although here it goes under the name of 'Siciliana' rather than 'alla Norma'. After such interesting pasta starters, main courses can seem a little dull, but a plate of mixed fish and seafood from the grill is never boring. The only problem is finding room for the dessert afterwards. If you are planning to visit the Sorrento area, be prepared to gain a few extra pounds.

While you’re in Sorrento...as well as Naples, the local trains can get you to the famous sites at Pompeii and Herculaneum within an hour. If going in the summer, take one morning for each site rather than combining the two; there’s little or no shade, so it’s hot work.

First published in VISA issue 69A (Oct 2006)

Eruption Night (Italy)

By Neil Matthews

I was watching an Italy-Germany football match on the TV at a pavement gelateria. Watching with me were a German couple and two small fair haired boys; a chain-smoking, middle-aged Italian in a baseball cap; two chatterbox young couples guarding quiet prams; and a long table of young Germans, national flag painted on cheeks. On each table was an Italian flag. Behind the tables, more locals and tourists gathered, talked, laughed and watched. 4

The game went on at a good pace, from end to end, but scoreless. Locals cheered when a German player was booked, and used hand-held hooters intermittently. The young Germans responded with chants. Someone on a nearby apartment roof marked half-time with a fireworks display. More fireworks went off elsewhere in the town. Normal Sorrento was suspended. Usually you have to watch out for Vespas; this evening, there was no traffic, motor or human.

Full-time approached; still no score. Finally the whistle blew to signal extra time. This time, there were no fireworks anywhere in the town. The match gripped everyone, except one of the young blond boys, now asleep, until his father picked him up and held him close, producing a tearful awakening.

In extra time, the Italians hit woodwork twice. Nobody was hooting, chanting or cheering much now. Two minutes remained when the ball came to Perlo. Every local around us pleaded for Perlo to shoot. But he didn't. He passed to Grosso, whose left foot shot curled precisely through a crowd of players into the right corner of the net, past the keeper's despairing dive.

The gelateria erupted. As the Germans watched in stunned silence, locals jumped up and down, hugging and shouting and hooting. Fireworks echoed across town. The Italians scored again and then it was over. Italy was through to the World Cup final.

The gelateria, and the street, turned into a heaving mass of noise, colour and celebration. Suddenly the traffic was back: cars, Vespas singly and in convoys, many displaying the Italian flag, passengers or even drivers waving it; some slowing down to greet the crowds, others racing through. At the street corner, a gaggle of teenage girls in azzuri tops screamed, whooped, hollered and cheered at every passing vehicle, producing hoots from the cars and Vespas, whose responses produced more cheers and whooping in return. One man used a gigantic chequered Italian flag to wave vehicles down, Formula 1-style. Cameras flashed.
In Vesuvius's shadow, the eruption continued unchecked for hours. Normal, laid-back, casual Sorrento had gone. Fiery, passionate, exuberant Sorrento had swept it away.

First published in VISA 81 (Oct 2008)